


Don't (Di)Mention My Sins in the Open

by bruhskatt



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: But In Space, Canon Divergence - Don't Dimension It, Comic: Gravity Falls: Lost Legends, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, PRISON RIOTS!, References to Drugs, Spoilers - Gravity Falls: Lost Legends, The Power Of Mabel, hence the rating, my sorry attempt at humor, she makes friends with intergalactic convicts, slightly angst, some colorful language, space cops!, space criminals!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruhskatt/pseuds/bruhskatt
Summary: The sentiment was still there, that much was obvious, and Dipper couldn't do much to change it but really, who was he to deny someone help despite their terrible attitude? And more importantly, who was he to ignore someone who looks like his sister in every aspect down to the braces but lacks the charm and the dogged positivity? Dipper would not let Mabel down, even if he decides to help this wicked version of her who is apparently on the top most-wanted list of the multiverse and is awaiting to be tried, rationality be damned."So," the lookalike grumbles for the first time since she stumbled into their world with nothing but a criminal record that could rival Stan's and a maniacal yet brilliant intellect that could intimidate Ford's, "what are you gonna do now?"Dipper crosses his arms.Something incredibly stupid.---The events of Lost Legends: Don't Dimension It take a very interesting turn.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Mabel Pines & Original Character(s), Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. When Newton's 1st Law is the Worst Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> this plot bunny latched onto me and wouldn't let go so here it is
> 
> I'm an amateur writer so my writing style is gonna be all over the place 
> 
> Gravity Falls belongs to Alex Hirsch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mabel from a different world pops up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is a good enough start to this dumpster fire I created bc of a plot bunny lol
> 
> also content-warning for a 12-13-year-old with a mouth of a sailor :D

RQH RI WKHVH WKLQJV LV QRW OLNH WKH RWKHU

* * *

Okay, so maybe using an interdimensional portal device made by some old coot with trust issues wasn't as easy as it looked the first time but she got the hang of the controls the second time she used it to make a daring escape in Dimension D4NG. But then again, perhaps she should've stolen the written instructions too when she snuck out of that geezer's poor excuse of a shack.

Oh well. At least the damn thing is functional enough.

She turns the little dials on the portal device on her wrist, pressing screen buttons, and the like, thinking of Plan K (the other plans from A to J are inefficient for the most part and made on the spot more than she would've preferred) and where to go from here. 

The watch beeps, searching for nearby (or faraway) worlds with weak interdimensional spots to tear open a gateway.

This dimension is tame in comparison to the others she's been to but given how close _those guys_ are to her location, she needs to find one much farther away than here. Being a deserter is tough and annoying enough as it is and she'd much rather find a good place to settle and get some food.

The beeping stops and the list of coordinates and its location names presents itself in a holograph screen projected by the watch. She studies them with scarily fast and keen eyes and one such coordinate attracts her attention. 

**[ Dimension 46'\ - Earth ]**

"Well that looks promising," she mutters to herself, a subtle smirk growing on her face. 

It's been a while since she's been to such a planet. Maybe the poor idiots living there are just as gullible as the others in the previous realms. She's been hankering for a new civilization to over—

_"There she is!"_

_Crap._

Sirens echo loudly in the vast space behind her and she wastes no time to select her chosen portal. 

The glowing vortex opens ahead and she sees the greenery of Earth but she doesn't take her sweet time to prepare her epic arrival. They're drawing closer now and she needs to get these guys out of her hair.

All she needs is a bit of leverage.

* * *

"Ah, finally, a family camping trip! I'm going to name every squirrel and eat every kind of dangerous oak!" Mabel chimes, breathing in the fresh scent of pine and listening to the birds chirping above the canopy. Her favorite people in the world are walking close behind her, a little less enthusiastic about this little adventure compared to her but she wouldn't want it any other way.

Grunkle Ford prompts her, "We're not camping, Mabel. This is a scientific expedition!" He holds up his newest invention — a sick sci-fi gun with pink, glowing goo sloshing around inside a clear container at the butt — to prove his point.

She didn't exactly remember the details of what it's used for considering the explanation he gave them earlier that morning was all kinda too quick on the uptake for her (or Grunkle Stan, for that matter) to understand but all she could get out of it was that the gun is made to do some helpful stuff, so that's pretty cool.

"We're searching for leftover multidimensional rips from Weirdmageddon to patch up with alien adhesive. So keep an eye out for anything that seems... _Lovecraft-y."_ Now, _that_ she understands. Mabel's been exposed to a lot of Dipper's fiction books to know what her Grunkle was talking about (who knew a creative mind can get pretty disturbing?).

Dipper goes on to ask Grunkle Ford a question about universes and the sciencey nerd talk tunes itself out in Mabel's ears. But she did hear Grunkle Ford saying something about sandwiches and planets? Ah well, she'll just ask him about it after this. Today, it's a family fun camping trip and absolutely nothing is gonna ruin it! 

One way or another, Waddles disappears from the bag, and Mabel partially panics, forgetting her prior talk with Dipper about her being "a pinch self-centered", as he put it (something icky stabbed her in the chest at that as she remembered the darn unicorn and her darn words and the darn apocalypse but she buried those memories deep in a vault of her mind).

She scrambles to catch the runaway pig as her Grunkles bicker behind her about who's the better summer caretaker.

It brings a smile on Mabel's face hearing the familiar sibling competitions instead of the heated arguments whenever they're in the same room. She had been adamant at the start that they should hug it out (something both Stan and Ford didn't wanna do for the past few weeks until just a few days ago) and she worried that they wouldn't do it but her Grunkles are weird big-hearted old men; she understood that they have their ways of making up and she figured that them bantering and competing over little things is one of them.

It's a nice change of pace, maybe even better. Those two have been at each other's throats since the moment they've finally reunited after thirty years so seeing them acting more and more like best friends gives Mabel more joy than Mabel Land ever could—

Nope, nope, nope, no, nu-uh, no way, not thinking about that nightmare today, no siree! Today is Family Fun Camping Day, no Bill-related junk ever!

Now, where was she?

Oh, right. Catch Waddles before Grunkle Ford finds out.

"Found my pig!" Mabel cheers, unaware of a portal forming behind her.

And then everything went into chaos.

_"Mabel!"_

_"A wormhole!"_

_"Stay back!"_

A hand shoots out of the glowing vortex and grabs onto Mabel's shoulder harshly, making her stumble and for Waddles to escape her hold. "What the heck?!" She shrieks but her voice gets cut off by a strange cloaked figure coming out of the portal, pulling Mabel backward and closer and closer to the wormhole due to its gravitational magnetism.

Fear rolls sickeningly in her stomach and her voice is stuck in her throat. Her family is in a panicked frenzy

_(Stan is calling out to her, Dipper is yelling for Ford to do something, Ford is trying to get something from his belt- a weapon? A tool?)_

and she can feel the hairs on her arms standing on end from the faint static energy of the portal.

The stranger continues to tug and push rigorously at the girl's shoulder, and using the momentum they now have, they nearly shove Mabel even further towards the opening.

Something coils around her abdomen like a snake ready to devour its next meal and Mabel can hear alarm bells ringing deafeningly in her brain. Mabel, in fruitless hope and terror, quickly latches onto the stranger's arm, gripping it tightly.

What happens after almost feels like it's going in slow motion. 

The hood of the stranger's cloak flies out of their face and ice-cold horror engulfs her body in an instant as she stares at the revealed appearance. Her eyes meet theirs and nothing makes sense to Mabel anymore. Nothing makes sense, nothing is clicking for her but she couldn't deny what's in front of her.

The stranger looks like—

"Have fun in the Laxocron prison, sucker!" They cackle with a wicked smile that promised nothing but cruelty and evil intent, sending chills down her back.

Before her family could reach her, Mabel feels a strong kick in the stomach, the thing that was wrapped around her pulling her farther and farther from her home, from her family, and before she knew it, the portal closes while multiple hands forcibly grab at her arms.

* * *

Dipper had no idea what just happened.

Heck, he didn't know _why_ or _how_ it happened. All he knew was that Mabel _was gone._

_Mabel is gone._

"Mabel...?" He croaks.

Then, as if time has finally caught up to him, the events that had occurred slapped him across the face with a sickening intensity and he had to swallow the bile down.

It all happened so nauseatingly fast yet so agonizingly slow. 

A wormhole formed. Mabel was near it. A figure appeared. Mabel got too near. The stranger kicked her in. The stranger closed the portal.

Another thought dances tauntingly in his mind and he realizes that _t_ _he stranger is still there._

As quick as it came to him, Dipper lands his gaze on the unknown figure standing where his sister stood. His many thoughts turn into white static and red is all he could see, a fire burning in his chest with a vengeance ready to be carried out. Before his Grunkles could react, Dipper angrily charges at the hooded stranger with a raw cry of rage, tackling them to the grass and gripping tightly onto the coarse fabric of their cloak. "What did you do to my sister?!" Dipper growls, shaking the immobilized culprit.

Stan and Ford call his name in alarm but he didn't care. He didn't care if he's being aggressive now, he didn't care if he'll be violent later.

He's lost Mabel once and now he's lost her again and _this_ _person_ is responsible. Wanting to question the figure face to face, Dipper fiercely pulls down their hood but the anger he was feeling swiftly dissipates, leaving him slack-jawed and all the more confused. 

Lying on the ground was none other than his twin sister, Mabel Pines.

But she couldn't be Mabel, right? He just saw his sister get kicked through a multidimensional rip - this couldn't be Mabel. Maybe it's another one of Bill's tricks, or the Shapeshifter finally escaped the bunker, or or or—

Dipper later remembered Ford telling him about there being multiple worlds, different realities from theirs, and there being alternate versions of themselves. He remembered, yet he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it, yet here she was; someone with the same features as Mabel, the same color in her cheeks, the same nose, the same shade of her hair. He could see the same shade of pink under the cloak _(Mabel's sweater, oh jeez),_ as faded as it is.

But the eyes...Dipper can already tell this person _isn't_ Mabel. This doppelganger's eyes held danger and vice, and evil secrets and promises and not the well-known sparkle he always saw in his sister's eyes. So this couldn't be the Mabel he grew up with, she just _can't_ be. 

He hears audible gasps coming from behind him and Dipper assumes that the Grunkles must have taken notice to the culprit's face. Maybe they're just as confused and shocked as he is. So many thoughts and theories buzz in his mind like hornets infesting the space with 'what-ifs' and scary, unrealistic scenarios. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe.

However, one thought stands taller and louder than the others and anchors his focus: she put Mabel on the other side of the portal. _She_ is why your sister is gone _(for now. Don't jump the gun here)._

"Who are you?" Dipper finds himself saying. His voice is nearly unsteady but he keeps himself resolved. Mabel is counting on him and Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford to rescue her. He can't let her down.

The lookalike scoffs, "I think you can take a guess, Rudolph." ( _By God, she even_ sounds _like her._ )

Unbidden, Dipper's rage resurfaces and is about to further question her, no doubt with punches in the mix, until a six-fingered hand rests firmly on his shoulder. Ford calmly _(how can he be so calm in a time like this?)_ says, "Dipper, calm down, my boy. Take a breather and let her up."

He turns his attention to his uncle with shocked and puzzled eyes. Didn't he see what just happened to Mabel? Didn't he know that _this doppelganger_ of her is guilty?

Before he could protest, Stan goes down on one knee by his side and pats his back. "Listen to Ford, kiddo. If you keep this up, you're gonna bust a nerve or somethin'."

It's common knowledge that it's rare for Stan to act so- so composed and un-violent in a situation like this where he would normally use his fists and his loud mouth to express how he feels. Yet it stuns Dipper, still, that the old man isn't acting up and punching things out of fear and anger and worry over Mabel - someone, Dipper undoubtedly knows, who means the world to his Grunkle. 

Then again, some part of him is relieved to know that he has an even-tempered rock to anchor him from doing anything brash. 

But the rest of him is still reeling over the disappearance of his twin and Dipper feels the rising frustration in the back of his throat. Stan seems to notice this as he continues further. "Look, kid, I know how much you wanna get Mabel back. Ford and I wanna get her back home, too. But you gotta keep your head on straight if we're gonna come up with a plan, and clobbering this dead ringer of your sister ain't gonna help."

Dipper knows that Stan's right. And he hates how he knows that Stan's right.

With a resigned huff, the boy reluctantly releases his grip on the lookalike's cloak, allowing Ford to seize her by the elbows and forcing her to stand. He then starts his way back to the Shack with an iron-clad resolve in his expression. Without much prompting, Stan and Dipper follow close behind, with the former eyeing the girl with narrowed, vigilant eyes (and maybe a mix of suspicion and fury of a great-uncle scorned). 

"Where the hell are you insolent bastards taking me?" Not-Mabel — a name Dipper temporarily decided on considering this double is the embodiment of everything that is _not_ his twin — growls, baring her braces-filled teeth like a cornered animal.

Stan comments under his breath, "Yeesh, does she have anger issues,"

"And a colorful vocabulary," Dipper adds dryly.

Ford doesn't seem perturbed by the lookalike's profanities, his hold on her still firm and unyielding, and his hardened gaze looking forward. "We're taking you to the Shack and we're going to get to the bottom of this."

She sneers, "And then what? You're gonna make do some petty chores for you?"

"Just shuddup and walk, brat," Stan snaps, clenching his fists.

Not-Mabel cackles and the sound is so...so _wrong_ and _out of place_ to hear. Dipper can vouch that his Grunkles feel the same but he steels himself as she says, "Oh, come on! Interrogating an _adorable_ girl such as myself? Please, don't make me laugh, dear uncles."

If the last few words bothered said Pines men, they don't react. Much. Dipper can tell that they're reeling from the bitterness in her _(Mabel's)_ voice and how she's being the complete opposite of their beloved girl but he doesn't try to comment. 

As the sight of the Mystery Shack becomes visible up ahead and the time to question this other Mabel is looming closer and closer by the minute, Dipper could only pray to every god in every world that his sister is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had the first draft of this but Word crashed and I wasn't able to save it (A LESSON FOR YOU AND ME KIDS, ALWAYS SAVE YOUR SHIT) so I wrote this whole thing by memory (;v;)
> 
> and tbh the first draft was much better than this one but that's just me lol
> 
> I might ask for a beta reader somewhere down the line but until then, I'm gonna proofread everything and we're gonna die on this hill like men.


	2. Interrogations Don't Go Swell as They Should

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel makes friends with alien jailbirds. Meanwhile, two old men and a twelve-year-old try their luck at playing good cop, bad cop, and morally ambiguous cop with a space convict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content-warning for swearing aliens
> 
> this chapter is quite longer than the first one
> 
> kinda not satisfied with this one but I hope y'all enjoy it!

KHDYB DUH WKH KDQGV WKDW KROG WKH JOLWWHU

* * *

"Gentlemen, after two and a half weeks of spine-breaking, ass-kicking pain, we finally caught her," a voice that somehow sounds like it's coming from a gas mask utters loudly and in celebration, and a few others reply with shouts of energy.

It took Mabel a few seconds to realize that both of her hands are being handcuffed in bullet-shaped cases in front of her, feeling a hasty static shock the moment the cuffs are clasped shut. Next thing she knew, she's being shoved around to the back of what looks like a maroon police spaceship with the red and blue roof lights and in the shape of a regular van.

Mabel would've been awestruck by the sci-fi stuff happening here if it weren't for the fact that she's _getting arrested, oh crud._

"Hey! Lemme go, you tights-wearing buttfaces!" Mabel cries, thrashing around despite it being a hopeless effort for her to escape.

For a moment, she panics inside but somehow manages to calm down and Mabel checks out the strangers surrounding her, concluding three things (like Grunkle Ford does when he goes into his Science Nerd Mode):

1) They're all wearing the same gray and neon blue suits with a silver diamond badge on their left chest (they're probably alien police or something).

2) They're riding on futuristic hoverboards which is the coolest thing ever.

3) They're all not exactly human. Come to think of it, they look like those aliens from the _Star Wars_ movies she and her dad loved to watch.

Except they're probably gonna prosecute her and send her to space-county jail for who knows how long instead of taking her to Darth Vader. 

The alien who first got ahold of her (a humanoid pink squid with six blue eyes and tentacles for a beard!) lifts her by the neck of her sweater and tosses her inside the van like a ragdoll, another space officer appearing beside Tentacle Beard.

The officer isn't as tall as the other aliens but Mabel can tell that they're the one in charge, mainly because they're the only dog-looking creature among them, resembling the fox version of Robin Hood, except instead of a fox, it's a white and gray wolf with a piercing blue eye, their left eye only a milky white with a jagged scar running across it vertically. A very intimidating, very much frightening wolf.

"You thought you could give us the slip huh, brat?" The anthropomorphic wolf leader says, his gruff tone carrying irritation, anger, and satisfaction (and it was only then that Mabel realized that the voice from awhile ago belonged to him).

"You're crafty, I'll give you that, and you're wicked savvier than any of my men but you can't get rid of us that easily. And I, for one, can't wait to see you behind bars _for good."_

After hearing what her fate will be, Mabel scrambles to her knees and pleads to the police, even though she knew that her cuteness and charms can't wiggle her out of this one, "Wait, wait, wait! Please! I think there's been a big misunderstanding, you've got the wrong girl! I didn't do anything wrong!"

To her dread, the wolf leader scoffs at her, "Yeah, right. Don't think your so-called cuteness and that conniving brain of yours is gonna get you outta this like last time. I know a dirty criminal when I see one. Let's take her away, boys." 

With that, he slams the doors of the transport van, leaving Mabel alone in the darkness of the space vehicle... At least, she thought she was alone. 

Soon enough, gruff whispers ring around her, and Mabel adjusts her vision to the dark space, but she didn't need to when the van's interior ceiling light flickers on behind her. She turns around to find six aliens restrained in the same handcuffs as her wearing dark gray jumpsuits with strange writings on the right chest of the clothing, probably their version of the orange and/or black and white prisoner uniforms back on Earth. One of them looks like a dinosaur, while the others look like regular Earth animals in an array of different colors and features. 

For some reason, most of them are quivering in fear on their seats, some holding onto each other while others staring at her nervously. Mabel quirks her head in confusion. "Hey, why's everybody shaking in their boots? What's going on?" She inquires.

She turns to the nearest alien by her right; a bullfrog-like Martian with mauve skin, yellow webbed fins for ears, and light green eyes. "Do _you_ know what's going on?" They don't answer. Instead, they flinch, clinging onto the anthro caterpillar alien beside them. 

Mabel groans but finds that the action just scares the convicts more. "I can't believe this is happening! I mean, I've been sent to county jail before but this is a whole nother level of wack!" Mabel would've gone to Sweater Town in a matter like this but the handcuffs rendered her completely incapable so she just elects to sit on the floor of the van hopelessly, thinking about her family back home and how they're doing. 

Man, Dipper must be freaking out right now, and, knowing her brother, he'll be heck-bent on finding a way to bring her back. She just hopes his head is on straight enough for him to come up with a plan. 

Her thoughts then travel to her Grunkles, wondering how they're handling the sudden circumstance they're all in. Stan must be freaking out just like Dipper, except probably more violent. Then again, something tells her he's being the anchor for her twin in this family emergency. As for Ford, he's probably figuring out a way to get her home with that super-smart brain of his. They're gonna find a way to get her home.

_Or not._

Mabel shushes that negative bit of thought in her brain, confident that her family will come up with a plan to rescue her. Still, the guilt that's been hidden and poking at her insides since the end of Weirdmageddon makes it a little difficult for Mabel to keep that optimistic mentality. 

Just to put the bad thinking at bay, Mabel tries her luck again in talking with the apparently-frightened aliens, hoping to get some answers. "Soooo can anyone tell me what the heck is going on here? How do those police guys know me, anyway?"

As before, the alien crooks don't speak. However, after a moment, a seemingly male anthro salamander with blue and green scales answers, his voice soft and reluctant, "From what I've heard and seen of you, you're one of the most wanted criminals in the multiverse. Pretty much every big baddie in existence is scared of you and your reputation around these parts."

Well...that's...not what Mabel was expecting. At all.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _what?_ But how? I'm the nicest person I know, and I've never stolen any high-tech spaceships or bazookas in my life to be on some galactic wanted-list!" Mabel cries, her mind buzzing with questions and her stomach doing not-so-happy backflips. This situation is getting worse and worse by the minute that not even her enthusiasm can help make anything make sense.

The bullfrog alien from earlier then utters, although still slightly shuddering and holding onto the caterpillar guy, with a surprisingly deep voice and a vague Ukrainian accent, "He's right. You are practically ranked on the top five most dangerous criminals in the multiverse, number three to be specific, and three is a scary number!"

Immediately after, Mr. Bullfrog hugs Caterpillar Person again and Mabel is left slack-jawed, wondering in stunned silence what the heck he just meant.

As far as she's concerned, the only crime Mabel has committed in her life is making counterfeit money for Grunkle Stan during one of their family bonding days, and that went unrecorded (mostly)!

Then again, she briefly speculated that maybe this is the world's sick version of the butterfly effect for one Mabel Pines, making her deal with the consequences of indirectly starting Weirdmageddon in the first place, technically a _crime_ on time and space and reality and all that junk.

(But she isn't ready for that kind of conversation yet nor does she want to think about that nightmare of a week before and her budding self-loathing so she opts to think about different scenarios in her head).

Then Mabel thinks back to that moment before the cuffs were even on her, that split minute in time before she was kicked over to this side of the universe. _When there are multiple worlds, there are multiple versions of us existing,_ Ford's words echo in her mind. She can't mistake what she saw. 

It's mind-boggling to think about with the kind of brainpower her brother and Grunkle Ford always use for tricky questions, and it's bordering on identity-crisis-levels of crazy, but Mabel makes a scary summing-up that, if Ford's stories of his portal adventures and his studies about the numerous worlds were anything to go by, some other version of her in the multiverse isn't so... _Mabel-y._

"Ah, jeez..." Mabel sighs, feeling her spirits getting more down than they have been before as she looks down at her shackles. "So where are these guys taking us, anyway? To a jail planet that's easily escapable or something like that?"

There had to be some sort of silver lining here somewhere, a little spark of hope that she can bust outta here and back to her home, safe and sound. There had to be something she can take a chance on.

"They're taking us to an ultra-max-security prison with absolutely zero chance of escape," replies the salamander. Well, there goes her chances.

Mabel grumbles. "Figures."

It's not like she wasn't expecting that kind of answer. Frankly, she predicted that to be the case but it's still dreadful news to her nonetheless that she'll soon be thrown into a cold, sci-fi prison with other dangerous crooks, no sweaters for her to make, no delicious Stancakes to eat, no new expeditions with her genius Grunkle, no adventures with her twin. Everything will be different now, and Mabel is not looking forward to it.

_But the guys will come and rescue me, so I don't have to worry!_ She tries to reason with as much faith as she could manage. After everything they've been through this summer, surely they won't let her be taken to some top-notch galactic facility with thousands of prison guards watching her every move and probably-unpleasant inmates ready to give her trouble forever.

Hopefully. 

_But who would wanna save a terrible person like you?—_

Nope! Mabel is thinking positive—Dipper, Grunkle Stan, and Grunkle Ford will come up with an epic rescue-and-escape plan and they'll all laugh and learn from this memory before her and her brother return home to Piedmont. Everything will be okay. Things usually would. 

Mabel eventually talks with a small lilt in her tone, hoping to forge at least some kind of camaraderie or association with these alien convicts in the meantime. She could use some friends, even if they look like they came straight from those sci-fi movies Dipper likes to watch. Friends do come in different shapes and sizes and species, after all. (She wonders distantly if Ford ever made friends while traveling the multiverse.)

"Alright, since it looks like I'm gonna be here for a while, how 'bout you guys tell me your names?" 

There's no harm in knowing, is there? 

To her slight bemusement, they all share puzzled and slightly less scared looks, almost contemplating whether or not they should give their names to her, the rumored "most conniving lawbreaker of the multiverse" (Mabel still couldn't believe that a different version of her has a giant criminal record that could make Stan run to the hills with his money).

The salamander breaks the awkward and tense silence, "No offense, but you normally don't ask anyone for their names, much less talk unless it's for your benefit."

"What do you mean?" Mabel tilts her head.

Mr. Bullfrog eases himself slightly in his seat. "You give nicknames instead. Mostly mean ones. No one tries to talk to you since you don't like to be bothered and know how to break a Grakol's three feet in eight different ways, so it's uh... A bit of a surprise you're being so friendly."

So her evil imposter is not only one of the top ten evil felons in the multiple galaxies but also coldly unfriendly and violent? She keeps learning about this other Mabel every minute. And she's not so sure the power of friendship and sweaters is gonna change anything.

"Well," Mabel starts, "I dunno about you guys, but I'd be honored to know some of your names! Besides, I don't wanna call you by anything else that makes you all sad and uncomfortable inside."

Hearing this, the alien crooks exchange looks again but this time there's no fear nor nervousness in their expression (as far as she could make out considering one of them has bug eyes). The salamander gives Mabel a relieved gaze, his shoulders relaxing just a tad and says, "Okay then. I'm Zavander but some just call me Zav."

Mr. Bullfrog responds next, more at ease compared to earlier, "And I'm Borgafreug D'Azgov the 618th but enemies call me Borga."

Mr. Bullfrog—or Borga, as he introduces himself (these space names are so freaking cool!)—then gestures to his caterpillar friend, "And this is Pilly. We call him that because we don't understand what he's saying and it's the only word we can figure out." (The caterpillar, Pilly, later shoots Borga what seems to be an annoyed look, expressing clicks and squeaks instead of an actual voice, proving the frog's point.) 

Afterward, Zav gestures to the other three aliens sitting on the left side of the van.

"That's Terro," a pinkish, human-sized, anthro-pterodactyl with yellow eyes nods at her. "That guy is Wils," a brown warthog with green zebra-like stripes on his face and neck chuffs in acknowledgment. "And that one is Mertral," a dark purple sea lion with four orange eyes waves at her using his hind flippers. 

Mabel smiles at the openness being displayed before her, now glad that she's made some friends with interdimensional convicts. "And I'm Mabel Pines! But I guess you guys already knew that, huh?" She says, gazing knowingly at her newfound companions. While the evil version of herself left a terrible impression on these people, she'll just have to make a newer one with the Power of Mabel! 

Zav bobs his head. "But you're not the Mabel Pines that everybody back at the prison knows."

"Yeah, you're way nicer," Borga comments with a tiny grin.

"And less violent," Wils and Mertral add in unison, Wils's voice husky with a hint of a Viking accent and Mertral's voice smooth and buoyant like those romantic guys from TV.

"And more colorful!" Terro yaps, his accent reminding her of Old Man McGucket but slightly raspier. Pilly agrees with soft clicks and squeaks and a short nod of his head, his red bug eyes squinting (probably his way of smiling).

Mabel grins from ear to ear at the little compliments but hearing how her alternate version—Criminal Mabel, she decides to call her for now—is treating others and how these guys see her left a sour taste in the girl's mouth.

If the subject of her other evil self hasn't been gnawing at her then, it's certainly biting at her now. From personally "meeting" her to hearing bits and pieces of what she's like and what she does, Mabel wanted to know more about this Criminal Mabel; villainous schemes and all.

Besides, once she meets up with her again, she could, say, put an end to her evil ways and change her for the better. Probably. It's a grasp-at-straws plan but Mabel will make do!

With this intent in mind, she starts with a purposeful spirit, "Okay, well, since I'm not the super-wicked-evil Mabel Pines you guys know about, could you tell me some stuff about her? I'm getting all curious-y!"

"Well...I dunno," Zav says. "There are a lot of things she's done that warranted her to be on the top-criminals record and I only know half of them."

Terro nods. "Plus, you seem like a good kid. I'm not sure if yer old enough to hear--"

"Mabel 'Star Shooter' Pines is a wicked, self-serving bitch," Wils butts in, his words spilling out without caution.

"Wils!" Terro scolds with a faint caw of a pterodactyl. Mabel isn't so phased by the colorful language. Considering the stuff she's heard from the neighborhood kids back in California and occasionally Grunkle Stan _and_ given the circumstance she's in, hearing the 'b' word is the least of her worries. 

"Ehhh. Wils is right, though," Borga shrugs with a curt nod.

The dino-alien whirls his narrow head at the bullfrog with a chiding, " _Borga!_ "

"What? It's true!" Borga counters. "She's a barbarian. A very smart, very scary, very intimidating barbarian...who knows how to set a Squeely on fire in ten different methods..." He trails off with an apparent fear in his yellow eyes and Mabel has the right mind not to push _that_ topic any further lest she wants the bullfrog alien to relive a bad memory (and, for the record, she _doesn't)_. 

She glances back towards Wils with an expectant look and he continues, "The Mabel we grew to be fearful of is a tough bratwith a lot of agendas. She's stolen high-quality weapons from the smallest Verlin-poison scimitar to the biggest plasma-photon ray. She once stole an exclusive Sunbeam 0-Ω Laser to carve a frown on her planet's moon, pretty diabolical stuff."

"Oh yeah, I heard of that story before. Then there was this rumor going around that she stole weapons-grade plutonium from some top-secret facility or something without breaking a sweat," Mertral mentions. Mabel doesn't know what a "weapons-grade plutonium" is but given Criminal Mabel's reputation, it's probably something used for terror and destruction.

Terro chooses this moment to further add despite his initial reluctance, "And she overthrew her planet's government. I don't know how that happened but that was one of her many scandals listed to date."

Jeez...Criminal Mabel sure is one big piece of work. Thinking about it now, maybe _Criminal Mabel_ is too vague of a name. Sure, she's done lots of...questionable and morally wrong things but something tells Mabel that this different version of her is far more than what she knows of her. She just needs one more detail that could settle everything.

Almost as if some higher being in the cosmos has heard her, Zav says, "And there's that one incident in Dimension SH-1N3 with her custom-made Bomb Shell. She blew up a giant, sparkly planetoid because she said she hates glitter."

And that was the kicker.

It was like a huge slap to the face for Mabel after catching that. There are so many things Mabel loves and one of them is glitter. But this Mabel, this crime-doing, weapon-stealing, glitter-hating fiend, doesn't. With that, the girl decides a new name for the other Pines girl, one befitting of someone the complete opposite of her. 

_Anti-Mabel._

(It's even a pretty catchy name that she can remember!)

"Wow," is all that she could say. 

Borga nods again solemnly. "'Wow' indeed, little Staur'lak _."_

Another stray thought enters her worries and Mabel asks, "And those police guys from earlier believe she's me?"

"They sure do. I mean, you _do_ look exactly like her and uh...I'm pretty sure nothing is gonna change their minds about you," Zav explains, looking at the girl sympathetically. 

The gravity of the situation soon sets in and a burning lump forms in Mabel's throat, her stomach tying itself into painful knots. If the space officers truly think she's Anti-Mabel and nothing she says will ever make them have second thoughts, then...

"But I'm not the Mabel they're going after!" She wails, her fear piling up more and more. "I'm not some evil mastermind who steals a bunch of stuff and blows up planets for the heck of it! I'm a good person; I'm innocent!"

Immediately, her cries are harshly shut down by the van's doors opening by none other than the wolf leader, his furry face contorting faintly into a scowl and Mabel feels goosebumps littering her skin and not in a good way. "That's what you always say, Pines. That's what you always say."

He sharply darts his one eye at the six alien crooks and barks his orders (Mabel would've laughed at the literalness but considering what's happening, she had no room to joke around), "Now get out, all of you."

After that, the wolf grabs Mabel by the chain that connects the bullet-cuffs and pulls her out of the mini spaceship, yelling at the other alien cops to escort her new friends while doing so.

The sight she's met with when she sets her feet on the dry, dark indigo landscape only makes the reality of her dilemma even more awful.

The building alone was enough to send chills down her back because of its towering walls and watchtowers armed with futuristic security measures such as electrical bars on the walls' borders and flying donut-shaped drones scouting the area. On the surface of the giant wall in the middle is a glowing emblem in the shape of a diamond with an hourglass inside, alien words written above the insignia. Meanwhile, other aliens of different sizes and species are stationed outside with equally futuristic guns in their possession.

Again, Mabel would've been stoked and amazed by the sci-fi action going on in front of her but...

"Welcome home to Laxocron Prison VII, Star Shooter," the wolf leader growls sardonically as his men take Zav and the others through the large steel gate.

And suddenly the county jail seemed less cold.

* * *

"Where did you come from?"

Nothing.

"How did you get here?"

Nothing.

"Why did you come here?"

Still nothing. 

Ford sighs frustratedly, pinching the bridge of his nose and walking back to where his twin and nephew are waiting in the TV area of the living room.

This is getting them nowhere. For almost an hour and a half, they've been trying — and failing — to get the alternate version of Mabel to spill some information about her but so far, she's been silent, only giving them either annoyed or blank looks in response to their many questions. She even growled at them at one point.

Dipper had tried convincing her to talk using the things their Mabel likes but nothing has changed with the lookalike up to this point. Both Ford and Stan had to hold back the kid before he could pummel the doppelganger's face into an unidentifiable state out of rage and aggravation.

Stanley had given his contributions as well by scaring her with his lagoon-man mask but even that didn't work. All they could do is keep interrogating her until she breaks (which Stanford honestly doubts considering the girl hasn't reacted at all to his twin's scare and intimidation tactics; she's one tough cookie).

Stan turns his gaze from the floor to his brother. "Didja get anything, Sixer?" 

The researcher could only shake his head with a disappointed huff. "I've tried getting her to talk but she hasn't said a word since we arrived." 

The three Pines men turn to Not-Mabel (Ford figured they'd settle on a more appropriate name later) tied tightly and securely on a chair facing them in front of the coffee table, staring at nothing with a ghost of a scowl on her face. Seeing this truthfully unnerves Ford in a way that makes him want to find his great (and Great) niece as fast as possible and send _this_ variant of her to outer space or something. His gut instincts were sometimes never wrong.

She's no longer wearing the tattered cloak she had earlier, her pink sweater with the shooting star design now out in the open and Ford bites down that sore feeling in his chest at the reminder that they may not have much time left. They must act quickly.

Dipper goes to rub at his arms again but decides against it as he puts his hands in his vest pockets with an apprehensive gaze. He addresses to Ford, "We gotta keep trying, Grunkle Ford. She's the reason Mabel got through that wormhole earlier and somehow closed it. She knows something. We just gotta try again."

Seeing the desperation in the boy's eyes hurts the old man in more ways than one. He, too, wants to speed up the process of getting Mabel back from whatever dimension she's currently in (and he prayed deeply that it wasn't the realm _he_ ended up in thirty years ago) but this one-sided questioning isn't getting them any progress nor leads.

Not-Mabel isn't talking at all and as far as Ford's concerned, she probably never will until something urges her to do so. 

It's the kind of hope that Ford couldn't latch onto. He's thought of a million things logically and most of them tell him that their viable options of getting Mabel home are either creating a portal-making device (Ford knew a guy who has a functioning one but he doubts _he_ could be of any help), fixing the interdimensional portal in the basement (he sincerely wished the parts aren't whole/functioning, the thing has caused him and the family more grief than he would like) or taking the information from the alternate Mabel by force. 

The last option was iffy. He's never harmed a child in his life (except that one case with a vampire child in a dimension similar to theirs who eerily resembled that one kid with the white pompadour who has a strange obsession with Mabel) and he wouldn't dare to try now. Not when said child has the same face as his niece.

So Ford settles on the same decision. Keep asking until she spills the beans. After all, people have their limits. Surely Not-Mabel has hers.

Getting down on one knee, Ford places a comforting hand on Dipper's shoulder. "Let's keep trying, then."

With that, the three Pines members step forward to the bound girl with a resolve a little firmer and stronger than the previous time. 

Not-Mabel seems to notice them from the way she bares her braces-lined teeth the way a predator would. She's frustratingly defensive, that's for sure, but perhaps they could tear down her barricades with the right push and have her talk. Ford crosses his fingers that she will.

"Okay," he starts, "let's try this once more; who are you and how did you come here?"

She rolls her eyes instead. 

The action doesn't surprise Ford in the slightest but it did bring a reaction out of his brother, the old man in question clenching his hands and crying out gruffly, "The nerd asked you a question, runt! Where the heck did you push my niece into?" 

She gives them the look that oozes prepubescent attitude and danger, a combination that Stanford doesn't quite like seeing on his dear Mabel's features but he reminds himself again that this girl _isn't_ her and that _she's_ responsible for Mabel's disappearance. 

Ford could see Stan cracking his knuckles at his side, grumbling, "Well I oughta..." He had to put a steady hand on the man's shoulder as a way to keep his twin's anger and worry in check. They won't have any advantages at all with a concussed kid from a different reality. 

Ford steps forward with a determined glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, I got this handled."

He pulls up a chair in front of Not-Mabel and puts on his best interrogation front. "Listen here, if you don't want to deal with my punch-savvy brother over there, why don't you tell us everything about yourself and what you know, especially how we can get my niece back from that portal you kicked her in."

Nothing. 

If Not-Mabel had superpowers, she would've burned holes in Ford's head with laser-vision by the way she's glaring at him. He doesn't back down though. 

"We can do this all day and night if we have to," Stanford crosses his arms. "So unless you're willing to become an insomniac, I suggest you tell us what we need to know."

Nothing again. 

Ford suppresses the temptation to shake her by the shoulders, pinch her cheeks, tickle her in Mabel's weak spots, _anything_ to make her reveal her secrets and plans that could help them in rescuing Mabel. He bites his tongue and drums his fingers on his arms instead. Stan grumbles and folds his arms.

"Oi, brat, I dunno about the other two but I don't have any patience left with ya, so spill it or you're gonna have me to deal with." 

As expected, Not-Mabel doesn't speak, opting to shoot a nasty stink-eye at the three of them as an answer. At this point, Ford's tolerance is thinning dangerously quick and he isn't sure if he can hold himself back from using any practical weapon he could conjure out of his many coat pockets as intimidation.

However, it seems Dipper's tolerance has run out already. 

He cries out angrily and tackles her to the floorboards with a loud crash. "Tell me! Tell me how we can get my sister back! It's your fault she's stranded out there! _TELL ME NOW!!!"_

No matter how much Dipper screamed at her face, Not-Mabel just wouldn't budge. Her face contorts into annoyance at the boy's display and Ford and Stan immediately step in to take Dipper away from her lest they're in for a show of the kid punching the crap out of the alternate Mabel, risking not getting any information completely.

"Dipper, Dipper, take it easy! Calm breaths," Ford advises as he holds onto his nephew by his left arm with Stan holding the other. With every heavy exhalation coming from Dipper, the old men worry that the boy's gonna pass out from mental and emotional exhaustion. 

"My boy, I understand how you're feeling. I know you're just as angry and frustrated as we are but we need to keep our composure. Mabel is counting on us to rescue her and we need the other Mabel's information to do that," the scientist pacifies, watching carefully as the rapid rise and fall of the kid's chest slow down steadily. 

Good, he's calming down. "Hey, kiddo, why don'tcha get somethin' to cool you down while Sixer and I deal with this brat, huh?" Stanley suggests, giving pats on Dipper's back with a placating expression (one specially reserved for the kids when they're in a dark, lonely place, Ford observed). 

For a moment, the three Pines men stand in silence, the youngest of the trio trying to catch his breath and his composure. Stanford offered that they all should take a break for a bit but the boy refused. "It's okay, I'm good. Let's try this again." 

The older twins glance at each other with concern etched on their identical faces. They honestly didn't want their nephew to carry this pressure and fear on his shoulders but they knew they're all doing this for a common goal: to save Mabel from whatever horrors she's facing in a different universe. 

They let go of his arms and Stanley gives Dipper an affectionate noogie. "A'ight, I'll trust you on that. But get yerself a glass o' water or whatever first. Bein' angry is thirsty work." 

Dipper looked hesitant as first with a trace of irritation in his eyes but he gives in to his uncle's suggestion and ambles to the kitchen without complaint. And now, it's just Ford, Stanley and Not-Mabel in the living room. Of course, the former two aren't going to make this easy for the latter. At this point, "easy" won't be their style of questioning.

As the scientist props both the chair and the girl up from the floor, Stan's conman self begins to unravel through his hands in his pockets, and the showman smirk on his wrinkled face.

"You play good cop, I play bad cop?"

In truth, this style of interrogation is the last thing Ford would go with. But considering the situation and the way his brother is urging him to throw in the towel and do the thing those TV show cops do with expectant eyes, the eldest Pines knew he couldn't think of anything else to get Not-Mabel to talk. So he sighs, though an inkling of a snicker moves past his lips.

"Dipper can play morally ambiguous cop." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zav, Borga, Pilly, Terro, Wils, and Mertral (every OC in this fic, really) belong to me
> 
> I imagined Borga looking like Buff Frog from SVTFOE and Wils as Pumba but with a spiky-ish mohawk 
> 
> take that as you will
> 
> Ford, Stan, and Dipper are all morally ambiguous cops but Stan is mostly bad cop because he can

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this mess everyone!
> 
> probably more fics to come but we'll see ;)


End file.
